


Worries Within

by BrokePerception, ErrolsFeather



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokePerception/pseuds/BrokePerception, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErrolsFeather/pseuds/ErrolsFeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jo Danville kept her word to Sid. When the truth surfaces, though, emotions run high in every which way and cause an honest conversation between her... and Mac. JAC CO-WRITTEN WITH: Errol's Feather</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Worries Within **-** **-** I/II  
**

* * *

CO-WRITTEN WITH: _Errol's Feather_

* * *

"We'll see," Jo said, a small smile tugging at her lips when she and Sheldon Hawkes pushed through the doors that lead to Autopsy. She somehow felt there was a girl involved in this death, even if too little evidence had been collected and analyzed to prove it. Hawkes wasn't so sure the obviously female necklace in their victim's pocket was good enough to go with that hunch.

Their smiles immediately disappeared as their eyes fell upon the scene offered to them, though. Jo Danville's flashed to Hawkes sideways –– she could see the alarm that rushed her reflected in his demeanor. She suspected anyone seeing what they did when they entered the morgue would have had some alarm go off in their heads, though –– especially if they knew Medical Examiner Sid Hammerback.

"Sid?"

The M.E., however, didn't move or speak or give any indication at all that he had heard. He kept leaning heavily upon his forearms, continuing to breathe deeply. Sweat was visibly beading on his forehead, and he seemed to be shaking slightly at that point. He tried to raise his head at his colleagues when the shaking increased.

Fleetingly, their gazes met and a mutual understanding passed between them. Jo hastily pried her cell phone from her pocket and dialed for medical assistance, when Sid finally lost the last of the strength which he must have exerted for however long to stay on his feet until then. Jo's eyes widened when she noticed this and saw Hawkes helplessly reach for him. She reached for him, too –– if not to break his fall, to lower him to the floor with gentleness. She threw her cell phone on the table, but she could only barely grab his arm, though, and knew it would have to be the latter then. _Damn it._

Jo Danville's mind ran haywire at that very moment. She wouldn't forgive herself if he… She couldn't let her mind go there, not now. She just couldn't.

* * *

Neither Jo or Adam was hopeful any longer after a good two hours of watching surveillance tapes and nothing suspicious yet on them –– this definitely wasn't the most thrilling aspect of solving cases even if it hadn't been useless. While Jo and Adam watched those tapes together from the area at the mall where the victim had been discovered –– just to begin with –– Danny and Lindsay worked on the other evidence. Flack and Mac had chosen to stay at the scene, hoping to get to know something more by asking shop owners whether they had seen anything suspicious –– maybe the victim if not.

When they got to about forty minutes before closing time, Jo, however, caught their boss through the all-glass, tall panels of the Audiovisual lab, eyes directed down to his mobile –– he appeared to be texting someone. Jo fleetingly wondered whether it might be the woman he had been dating, Christine. She kept looking as he pushed through the doors to their working space and his eyes momentarily strayed off of the screen to look at Adam, surpassing Jo despite the fact that she sat on the lab tech's left and thus closer.

"Anything yet?"

"Nope," Adam replied with a sigh. "We've been watching the tapes from two hours before closing time, but every time when we thought we might really have something…" He shook his head to indicate 'nothing of relevance eventually'. He didn't have a lot of patience for stuff like this for obvious enough reasons.

Mac Taylor slowly nodded. "Flack and I visited with the jewelry store where the necklace came from. Owner says he last saw the victim two weeks ago when he sold it to him. That's all we got from the people we've talked to –– the rest doesn't appear to remember him. We just have to hope Danny and Lindsay were somewhat successful and managed to do find something that'll help us further in finding our killer. Meanwhile, keep watching those tapes and let me know if you should find something after all."

Jo's eyes rested on him the entire time, even if he seemed to refuse to look at her. She had noticed him do so very often over the last few weeks, since she had offered both her shoulder and ear to him and he had harshly pushed his _colleague_ away. Ever since, she had felt that was all she really meant to him. He seemed cold to her sometimes –– very unlike how they used to behave with one another. It did hurt her. It wasn't 'already forgotten'.

"Mac," Adam suddenly interrupted, seeing Mac turn on his heel to leave. He halted in his tracks and turned back. "Any news on Sid yet?"

Mac's head shook at that. "I haven't heard anything, no," he said. "I'm sure Hawkes will call, though, should he know more, at least." Grey eyes trailed to Jo when he finished talking. She was looking back at him. He couldn't really say why it made him feel so very… _bad_. He couldn't describe it, though. He cocked his head slightly, raised his eyebrow to the look in those hazel eyes. It hinted at something he didn't quite recognize. He seemed to find helplessness in there somewhere, and guilt. He wasn't used to seeing it, wasn't even sure if he ever had –– in particular the former.

Grey eyes shot back to Adam momentarily before he left, hoping that Danny and Lindsay would have something more. Somehow, his mind stayed with the woman when he made his way over to DNA. The look in her eyes wouldn't leave him. Suddenly, Mac realized that one of the emotions he had seen when their eyes met for that little moment, which he hadn't managed to name at once despite having seen it often with other people, was guardedness. He had never seen it in Jo Danville's eyes, though. Or maybe a couple of times since… He sighed. He hadn't really looked her in the eye for many weeks, because he hadn't wanted to trigger that anger and betrayal yet again which he had felt when Jo… _when she offered to help._

He wasn't sure how he felt about it, couldn't name the emotion but feel it only. It didn't add to his anger for sure, but it did absolutely nothing at all to release the knot in his gut either.

* * *

"If I were Jo, I would be afraid to go down to Autopsy from now…" Lindsay noted, turning on the mass spec then leaning upon the table. She thoughtfully eyed her husband. "I mean, first with the nitroglycerin bullets then this…" she clarified.

"Yeah…" Danny's right hand stilled upon the tweezers. Looking away from the victim's bloodied jeans, he seemed to ponder a moment before saying more. "This time, it doesn't have anything to do with the case in any way, though, if I can believe Hawkes. I just hope Sid's going to be okay. Hawkes seemed very worried when I saw him, and Jo's surely more than a little as well."

Lindsay sighed. Of course she hoped the same. She would hate for him not to be okay.

* * *

She slowly leaned back until she could feel the hard wall press back against her and crossed both arms over each other to the chills that rushed through her. Jo Danville had failed, if only in finding the strength to stay in that same room any longer, with Mac Taylor across from her by Sid's other bedside. She should have gone home when the others did, half an hour ago. Sitting in that room with Mac over a half-asleep Sid lying in the bed between them had caused a strange, suffocating feeling –– as if a weight that was obviously too heavy for her had been set upon her and left her no longer able to breathe anymore, as it slowly crushed her. She had only barely escaped its mercilessness. The hallway only offered little relief for Jo Danville; she could feel the impossible intensity of it still.

He hadn't said anything which might have hinted at Jo's earlier knowledge of his condition, and she was glad for it. She wasn't sure why, though. She wondered whether she had made the right decision in letting Sid deal with it on his own terms often enough. Maybe she just feared the others judging her decision.

She felt so helpless, more so than when Sid admitted having been diagnosed. It wasn't so weird. After all, there hadn't yet been conclusive results on how… She gasped for air. Maybe there had and he just hadn't wanted to worry her more. She couldn't let her mind go there. Still, she felt like she had failed as a confidante. She hadn't managed to keep control of her emotions when he told her even though she had definitely tried. Should she have pushed more, pushed for him to tell her even when each question that came close to the subject of Sid's well-being had been deftly dismissed since that evening?

She could hear a chair scrape over tiles not so far away, undoubtedly indicating Mac's departure. Jo shakily raised a hand to one cheek, then her other one. Even the cold of her fingers didn't ease the burning skin. She felt like this every time when she was already crying or about to do so. She needed to leave before Mac left the hospital room and saw her even though she had told him (and Sid) she was going home, to Ellie. She had no clue how much time might have passed since.

In fact, Tyler had gone and gotten Ellie from school and would entertain his adopted sister for the rest of the day… so the twenty-two-year-old had assured when she called earlier that day. Jo Danville was very glad that Tyler was such great kid, who never made much fuss when it happened she needed to work late and couldn't be there. She was a lucky woman, she knew. She sometimes didn't know what she had ever done to deserve them, especially if she heard other mothers talking about their children…

Josephine pushed away from the wall, taking a deep breath, beginning to walk away when she heard the door to Sid's room open, soon followed by footsteps she knew very well –– Mac Taylor's without doubt. She didn't immediately quicken her steps; it would have looked more than slightly suspicious. Why hadn't she gone at once? _Please, let me go home._ She couldn't do this, not now. She wasn't so lucky, though.

Mac's voice sounded, crossing the distance between them. It sounded so much softer than she had heard in a little while –– at least some weeks. It didn't sound accusatory, nor surprised. His voice made her halt at once, if his words already didn't. "You knew before today, didn't you?"

Josephine felt just like not only her feet had ceased to walk but her heart and her breath had somehow stopped, too. She didn't turn to him even though she heard those footsteps come closer, didn't slightly lift her gaze when he reached her either. He knew. She needed a few seconds to be able to look at him. Would he judge her? Would he have done the same?

Grey eyes clashed with hers when she looked to him eventually. She didn't know of any good reason why she should lie to him, even if he hadn't already been aware of the truth. Thus, she nodded. "Yeah," she admitted. "I did. He asked not to say anything, though. He nearly begged me to let it be on his own terms, and I respected that."

"I know. I wouldn't have expected anything else." Mac inhaled audibly. When he eyed her at that very moment, Jo Danville suddenly seemed older than he had ever seen. She looked so very troubled. There seemed to be something more there as well, though. He couldn't say what. It must have been tough not telling anyone that someone you cared about might die or would have to fight for his life at all costs. "When did he tell you?" he wondered.

"Do you remember the Guardian Angel thing?"

He frowned then nodded. _That long?_ Jo's silence was his confirmation. _That long._ "It must have been a hard few weeks," he said.

"Yeah…"

Tears had gathered at the corners of her eyes, he saw. He had seen her that way before tonight when they had cases involving children or others that somehow hit close to home. There was something more, though ––a mystery in her eyes which he wanted to see unraveled, which he maybe even needed to see so.

Jo's eyes locked with his and although she could suppress the impending tears that pricked in her eyes, she couldn't stop the whole surge of words she seemed to have been holding back for longer than she or he knew. "It does ask a lot of a person to know someone you care about is dealing with something, yet you can't help them…" At that, she sniffled. "Or you aren't allowed. You feel helpless most of all, wish that you could do more."

Her voice sounded rather breathless when she finished, and the silence between them told enough. He knew that she wasn't talking about Sid –– not only –– and she knew that he must had realized. Something flashed in his eyes, she saw, but it wasn't the anger or great betrayal that had hurt her so much when he told her not to get involved in any way with his personal life. She continued in a calmer tone. "I have given my word, though. Although I keep quiet and although I'm not confronted with it every day, my mind never does wander far."

* * *

**Authors' Note:** Interested in the rest of the story? We always love to hear your thoughts!


	2. Chapter 2

**Worries Within **-** **-** II/II**

* * *

Jo quietly set the mug of coffee down on the living room table before him, deliberately taking the armchair further away and giving him the beige couch for himself alone. She herself curled into her seat in a way one would typically associate with a teenager, especially how her fingers curled on the mug while holding it in her lap. The steaming definitely gave away the fact it was still too hot, unless you wanted to risk getting your tongue mightily burned.

Jo's eyes remained upon the mug. Josephine Danville wasn't easily left without words, but Mac's unusual behavior that night had had that effect nonetheless –– unusual compared to those last weeks, not very to how they once were with one another. _Once._ Jo would say to just after his near-death. Ever since, she had felt them grow further apart than they ever had been… and her mentioning she had noticed something was going on hadn't helped them at all. The banter between them had gone, the incredible mutual understanding. All gone and replaced by him always seeming on-guard when she was there, apparently wishing her to do exactly that in return.

So, yeah, she had been a tad surprised at Mac's suggestion to take her home when she mentioned taking the subway, given Adam and she had driven together and that he had left already once she had ensured she would get home somehow. She had been even more surprised when he parked the car and told her they really need to talk after a whole drive in silence. She wasn't entirely sure what else she had expected –– for him to drop her off at the curb with a lame goodbye? Maybe Jo had already known somewhere deep down that's where the evening had been leading to from the moment he suggested taking her home, despite the shocking component. So Jo had asked him in, and that's were they were now, sitting in utter silence. They hadn't said a word even. She wasn't sure whether she wanted him to speak, even if the silence wasn't very comfortable. Without looking at him, she knew Mac Taylor was watching her the entire time, though. Actually, she had felt his grey eyes upon her ever since they had left the hospital together.

"You haven't 'already forgotten', have you?" it sounded.

"No," she replied, not looking at him. There was no question at all what he was referring to –– there had been too much dancing about it already.

"Of course…" Mac muttered under a sigh.

Jo's gaze rose to meet his. "What did you expect me to do?" she asked. "I've loved and lost too much to act like I don't notice when those people I care about are struggling when I do." She then drew a long, shaky breath, an avalanche of emotions crashing through her, unwilling to settle down. Jo crossed the bridge between the double meanings and more clarity. "Sid at least told me what the Hell was going on with him, even though I had no idea until…" At that, her breath slightly caught. "You just stay unyielding. You don't tell me or anyone what's going on."

She saw the anger flare in his eyes again, like when she first mentioned it all, but after the day she had had, that raw emotion state in which Jo was didn't allow her to keep acting stupid –– just as she thought he wanted her and the rest of the world to be in regard to him and whatever he was so desperately trying to deal with himself. She wasn't remotely stupid, though, and she wasn't heartless, at all.

"I'm fine, Jo," he said in a clipped tone and reached over for his mug of steaming coffee.

"Are you?" she said, exasperated, voice sounding slightly shriller than he was used to. "Obviously, you don't really feel like you can confide into me, and that is okay, even if it is rather sad, but don't expect me to just not care, Mac Taylor, because… I can't. You may see yourself as a lesser person for whatever it is you aren't telling me, but that doesn't have to mean that the rest of the world necessarily does so, too."

"Jo." Mac's voice sounded slightly warning, as if he were giving her a very last chance to drop the subject.

"No," she whispered. She wasn't sure what she should call what flickered fleetingly through his steel eyes when she said that, but she needed to tell him this whether he liked it or not. "I'm sorry, Mac. You're the best companion that I ever had, and then when you suddenly got shot and no one knew whether you were going to make it through… That's when I fully realized how much you truly mean in my life if I didn't already know. You've no idea of the relief I felt when Hawkes said that you would pull through." She sniffled a little bit, gripping the mug tighter momentarily. "I can't even tell you how very glad I am that you did, but… Oh Mac, you seem so far away since it happened. It isn't the same, and I miss what we had –– even if I'm not sure what it was per se. I miss you, and you don't seem to feel it that way. I'm just unsure what role I have in your life, wonder if I actually matter to you on some personal level or I've been foolish to believe it."

Any anger Mac Taylor had felt had melted away at Jo's words of great honesty. When he saw tears finally escape her eyes and make their way down her pale cheeks, he shook his head to himself, to his own stubbornness and maybe foolishness, set his mug down and stood, moving to the armchair she was sitting in. He fleetingly eyed the living room table, quietly wondering if it could hold him. When he suspected it would if he didn't try and rest his full weight on it in any way, he carefully sat down on the edge so that their eyes were on the same level. There were only a couple of inches in between them, their knees only barely not touching. He wanted to stroke Jo's tears away, wanted to hold her but wasn't too sure she would like that now or at all. In order for her to spill her guts like that, she must truly be on the edge, though, he knew, even if she was quite an open person. "Jo…" he whispered. "You've always mattered, always will. You're personal."

She shook her head slightly. "It hasn't really felt that way these last few weeks or months, Mac."

Mac's eyes closed a little longer than necessary. When he opened them again, he reached for her mug, prying it from her soft hands –– glad that she let go so easily –– and calmly setting it down on the table beside him before reaching over and taking both her hands in his. He squeezed them gently, letting his thumbs run tenderly across them and drawing her full attention to him with it. "I don't believe it ever had to do with confidence."

"Then what? Pride?"

"Maybe," Mac admitted as he considered the word for a second. It wasn't the word or phrasing that he ever would have used… but it somehow worked, he guessed.

"To me it just boils down to the same thing still, Mac," Jo whispered, finally taking her eyes off of him and looking down at their hands. She tightened hers momentarily, then felt him squeeze in return. "Sometimes you've got to set your pride aside for those you care about, those you love."

Maybe this was what he had feared the most, her laying his soul bare. It would begin with admitting his condition, but he had no clue where it might end then. He knew that she would only try to help him without patronizing him in any way, giving him the same love and devotion that she always had. Maybe he was afraid of how she loved him. Maybe he was afraid that her name being the first that passed his mind before he had the chance to focus on who was there in hospital when he woke from the operation and gather just enough strength to speak aloud meant a lot more than he was comfortable admitting. That he loved her, too.

The knot in his gut painfully tightened, threatening to kill him if he didn't do something to release it. "I care a great deal about you, Jo. I do…" he sighed, "love you."

Mac's eyes remained on her as he told her this, and he saw her seemingly struggle with accepting it. Before he even realized it, Jo had reached over and wrapped both arms about his neck. The strength of her hug resulted in him getting knocked off the edge of the living room table, her sliding from the armchair right atop of him. It was a weird embrace, but it somehow worked.

He winced slightly when he fell on his bottom, and he was glad there was a carpet beneath him. Nonetheless, he embraced her back and quietly returned the hug, breathing in the scent of her hair, her skin… of Jo in all. He had no words for how he had missed her as well. He felt like he could breathe again, felt the knot in his gut release slightly.

He thought she might just love him like that as well, which was more than enough for now. They could always worry about the rest later, much later. Right now, Mac Taylor just wanted to hold her. He just wanted to be there with her, love her at last.


End file.
